


Jim Beam Sunset

by lackluster_lexicon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lackluster_lexicon/pseuds/lackluster_lexicon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Steve have a heart-to-heart following the events of Age of Ultron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jim Beam Sunset

“You never told me what she showed you.”

Steve pulled his gaze from the setting sun to look to Tony, but Tony faced steadfastly forward even after he spoke. Maybe it was the lighting, or maybe it was the fact that Tony had apparently been trying to broach this subject all day, but Steve could trace every crease that had etched itself over Tony’s face over the years, all cast in molten steel. Steve had been surprised to see Tony so soon after getting settled into the new Avengers facility – only two weeks had passed before Tony had announced he was swinging by to see how things were going, ostensibly because he had to make sure his money was being put to good use – but he didn’t resent Tony’s genuine attempt to actually tap out. He hadn’t expected that Tony would throw in the towel for good, but Steve really had missed him, and he felt pretty comfortable assuming that Tony had missed Steve and Natasha and the whole camaraderie thing himself. Now they were on the roof of the new Avenger’s facility, both seated on the parapet – Steve’s legs dangling down, Tony’s crossed under him – with a bottle of bourbon between them, having exhausted their conversation about Pepper and Rhodes and Stark Industries and the new Avengers’ training and what they’d heard the old Avengers were up to and landed, inevitably, on what they’d both probably been losing sleep over since they’d parted ways.

"Neither did you,” Steve said.

The corner of Tony’s lips twitched, but he still didn’t look to Steve; instead he reached for the bottle of bourbon, which Steve swiped from Tony’s fingers at the last second. Finally, Tony turned to Steve, and he was probably halfway to demanding the bottle when Steve smiled and took a long drag, then handed the bottle over.

“Just wanted to make sure you knew I was still here,” Steve said. Tony glanced down at the bottle, then back at Steve, then at a distant point over Steve’s shoulder. It wasn’t too far removed from the look Tony had gotten when Steve had tried to call him out on being a selfish show-boater instead of a real hero, nor was it a look Steve had been looking forward to seeing again.

“That bad, huh,” Steve said. It wasn’t a question, but Tony jerked his chin upward in a short nod, anyway, before taking his drink. A long silence followed, punctuated by the clink of the bottle as Tony returned it to the concrete parapet, before Steve spoke.

“I was at a Victory Day party. There were…Peggy was there. She told me the war was over and we could go home, but it – you know that leap your heart makes when you finally get something you’ve wanted for ages? As soon as that happened, it was gone. Everyone was gone. I was alone in this ballroom I’ve never seen before in an outdated uniform and with no idea how long I’d been standing there.”

Steve inhaled, but he lost whatever he thought he was going to say when he looked to Tony, who looked, as ever, positively indecipherable.

“…you okay?”

Tony frowned, his eyes flickering to Steve’s and away again. Steve waited.

“Sounds like she went easy on you,” Tony finally said, sending Steve’s eyebrow rocketing skyward.

“I’m not sure that’s how that works. But I told you mine; you gonna tell me yours?”

Tony snorted and locked eyes with Steve.

“That’s funny,” Tony deadpanned. “You’re funny.”

“It’s the company I keep, I think.”

“Uh-huh.” Tony reached for the bottle again, but he didn’t take it in hand – just wrapped his fingers lightly around the neck of the bottle, turned away again, and sighed.

“You died.”

Silence.

“Jesus, all right – it was the, you know, the Chitauri thing, only we were on the other side of the wormhole, and I could see the earth and all of you – I couldn’t save any of you. Even Banner, even _Thor_ , you were all – and I wasn’t, okay? I was the only one left.”

Tony lifted the bottle to his lap and scowled down its neck, leaving Steve to nod slowly to himself.

“I’m surprised I’m surprised,” Steve said after a moment. Tony full-on laughed, albeit a little darkly, took a swig of bourbon, and then offered the bottle to Steve.

“Yeah, I’m afraid all of you will die without me and it’ll be my fault. Might be the most rational thought I’ve ever had.”

Steve smiled wryly. “Pretty sure it’s not that literal.”

“Are you?”

“We didn’t die during the Chitauri battle.”

Tony seemed to weigh that for a moment.

“Okay, granted, but the point is that I’m apparently terrified of getting all of you killed because I didn’t plan far enough ahead – “

“…and having to live with it.”

“– and having to live with it. So what the hell is up with your dream quest? You’re not afraid of…of…”

“Of never seeing the forties again? Of course not.”

Steve expected Tony to respond to that, but nothing came, even when Steve looked to Tony with eyebrows raised in expectation. Instead, Tony appeared to be scrutinizing him. Waiting.

_Moment of truth, Steve. Just say it._

“Ultron said something…’not a man of peace, but a man of war,’ and I didn’t think much of it at the time, but for as long as I’ve been anybody, everything I stand for, everything I _am_ came from being at war. Maybe if I’d been able to go home back then, I wouldn’t…I mean, I don’t think about it much, but Sam once asked me if I wanted to get out of the SHIELD business and I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t. I still…”

Steve sighed, shook his head.

“I guess I don’t know who I’d be if I wasn’t Captain America anymore, but more than that, I don’t want that to be a bad thing, I don’t want my identity to hinge on fighting, I don’t want to have to fight forever…”

Tony was nodding, so Steve stopped talking and claimed the bourbon for a moment.

“…how does this work, then?” Tony asked quietly.

Steve lowered the bottle from his lips but didn’t set it down. “What?”

“Well, in your words, I want to stop the fight before it starts. You want to fight fair until, I don’t know, evil is vanquished and all the bad guys see the error of their ways, even if that means fighting indefinitely. Sounds like we have two very different means of achieving the same end.”

“Mm.” Steve took another pull of the bourbon, then relinquished the bottle to Tony. “Only if you have another Project Insight or Ultron in the pipeline.”

“And if I do?”

“Then I hope you tell us sooner rather than later.” 

Steve paused. 

“Do you?”

Tony didn’t react for a moment, but then he slowly shook his head, still uncharacteristically silent.

“Would you tell me if you did?”

Tony swallowed. “Probably not.” He looked to Steve, his expression settling into deliberate, guarded blankness.

“You’re disappointed,” Tony said evenly.

“That obvious?”

“You have a tell. For just about everything, I might add.”

“So Natasha tells me, but I can’t seem to break ‘em.”

“Don’t.” Tony returned his attention to the now almost-empty bottle. “Keeps you honest.”

Steve laughed through his nose. “And what keeps you honest?”

Tony lifted his hand, bottle in his fist, and swept his arm from left to right in front of him. The sun had settled below the horizon, leaving them in the murky violet glow of twilight, but Steve could see the mask settling over Tony’s face well enough.

“All of you, I hope.”


End file.
